Together We Burn
by PrincessNala
Summary: I want to hurt him for everything he's making me feel for him. I want to claw and bite at his soft skin until he bleeds and I want him to do the same to me, just to give me something to focus on other than how wrong and messed up we both are. Dean/Cas
1. Part 1

**Hey everyone! First off, I'm not dead! I've had a fair few months absence from fanfiction (as my readers from the Sherlock community know only too well, sorry guys :/ ), but now my exams have finished and my life is getting back on track so I'm easing myself back into my fanfiction writing again. ^^  
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**I've got a couple of Sherlock fics still in progress, but then series 6 of Supernatural came out and BAM, this fandom sucked me straight back in, and I just couldn't resist writing myself a juicy Dean/Castiel fic. Or rather, Dean/God!Cas (The end of series 6 damn near broke my heart, by the way).**

**There's quite a few Dean/God!Cas rapefics out there, and I wanted to do something a bit different. Yes, this has sex in it, angry angst-filled sex, but there's definitely some love in it. Just read on, you'll get what I mean haha it's hard to explain XD**

**Spoilers for mentioning parts of a few episodes in season 6 in here, and major spoilers for the last five minutes of episode 6x22, since the bulk of this first part is pretty much that scene, which I don't own by the way.**

**And thank you so much to the wonderful InsaneMelon, who was lovely enough to look this through for me. Thank you, my darling! ^^**

**Read on and review for me? Ta! :)**

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Everything had been leading up to this, but Hell if I'd seen it coming. From that very first moment when he strode into that barn, beige trench coat whipping out behind him in the harsh wind as sparks exploded and showered down from the light bulbs above his head, those piercing blue eyes fixed unblinkingly on mine and nowhere else, I knew that this one man, this angel of the Lord, would turn my world on it's ass in more ways than one. But after everything we've been through, I never expected it to come to this. How could I have? None of us would've guessed that this was how it would end. It's a betrayal that cuts me so much fucking deeper than I could've ever imagined, and he knows it. I can see it so clearly in those unnaturally cold narrowed blue eyes of his.

Maybe it's partly my fault. This wouldn't have hurt anywhere near as much if I hadn't let that Goddamn son of a bitch worm his way under my skin and spread to fill the emptiness with his grace, his sheer presence searing through my heart and soul as white-hot and permanent as the handprint he left on my bicep. I should've realised sooner. After all, nothing good happens to Dean Winchester. You'd think a guy would just _learn_ already.

Thinking back, it all started with the personal space thing. Hell, knowing my luck, it probably started long before Castiel's recurring lack of understanding of human personal boundaries first made me realise that there was… well, just _something_ between us. I couldn't explain exactly what it was, back then. To be honest, I doubt I could explain it even now. But yeah, the repeated experience of having those soulful bright blue eyes staring contemplatively at me from a face that was literally a few inches from my own must've flicked the switch inside my head, opening my eyes to the fact that there was more than just an angel's ignorance of human customs at work here. It started small, the tiniest flickers of suspicion and confusion, not to mention a fair amount of panic, surfacing every time we came face to face, but it kept on growing. And boy, did that beast grow alright.

And eventually, it morphed into something that it really shouldn't have. As if I wasn't damned enough before; this was fate practically kicking my ass further and further towards a return trip downstairs.

Ok, so I'll admit I've always been comfortable enough with my sexuality (back then, as straight as a guy could be. Now… not so much. Selectively bent? Cas-sexual? Take your pick) to appreciate the attractiveness of other men, so obviously I'd noticed right from the start that Castiel was a fairly good-looking guy. Or rather, the meat suit he was riding, Jimmy Novak, was a fairly good-looking guy. I sometimes wonder if he'd taken someone else as his vessel, someone far less attractive, would it have made any difference to how I feel about him? But then again, when Jimmy took back control of his body that time, I looked at him and saw Castiel's strong jaw shadowed with stubble, the 'just-shagged' look he'd got going on with his dark hair, those Goddamn eyes, the thin blue tie and trench coat and _everything_, but I felt nothing for him. Just because he simply wasn't Cas. Totally fucked up, I know, but hey, this thing hadn't made sense from the get-go, so it wasn't about to start anytime soon.

Being so often in close contact with the clueless angel of the Lord, I started to notice things. Tiny almost imperceptible things, mannerisms mostly, that maybe he didn't even realise existed. Ok, so the curious head tilt and that furrowed-brow confused expression of his were pretty much legendary around here (well, in our circle anyway, and possibly to other people we've met along the way that had been on the receiving end of said infamous head tilt or whatever), but I'd bet my life I'm the only one who'd noticed things like the way the pointer and middle fingers of his right hand brushed repeatedly against his palm by his side when he's pissed, which is basically the only physical outward sign that he can't hide behind his general uptight _angel-ness_. And the way he did a weird little mouth twitch whenever he saw someone eating a burger, no doubt remembering how he couldn't get enough of them when Famine worked his Horseman mojo on him. I'm sure he still craved them, despite how he didn't actually need to eat or anything. Oh, and of course, I've seen him smile.

Granted, I'd only had a full-out wide white grin directed at me from future Cas, (which had been damn near breathtaking, by the way), but as far as I knew, I was the only person to have ever coaxed a genuine upwards curve of those full dry lips from Cas of the present. No one else had managed it, so I was pretty freaking proud of that. One of my highest accomplishments, I think. Hey, it might've been pretty easy to top _that_ particular list, but that didn't make it any less important to me.

"So, you see, I saved you."

God, yes he had. So many times over. He's the one who gripped me tight and didn't let go until he'd dragged my sorry ass out of the fiery pit and brought me back from the dead, leaving his handprint, his brand, burned into my flesh for the rest of eternity, unintentionally or otherwise. And then on top of that, I've lost count of how many times he'd helped me and Sammy out of a sticky situation, sometimes at the risk of his own life. Raphael had killed him, Lucifer had killed him, and a fair few others have come pretty damn close too. Dude was like a freaking cat or something, probably down to about seven or six lives left out of the original nine. Which, considering the situation we're in at this very moment, does not bode well for two out of three people in this room.

"Sure did, Cas. Thank you." I reply cautiously as me and Bobby take a few steps closer to the angel. I don't even dare to blink as I stare at the back of that beige trench coat, almost praying that he doesn't turn around so I don't have to meet his unfeeling gaze ever again.

The tension is mounting now, every word hanging thick and heavy in the air between us. I can't hide the apprehension and wariness in my voice even if I wanted to. He sees through me so easily. He always has done.

It's been a while since I've felt actual pure fear towards Castiel. Growing closer to him, falling for him, humbled by and perhaps taking for granted the sheer amount of loyalty he had to us… well. It sometimes made me forget exactly who this guy was. The all-powerful super-charged battle-hardened warrior of God was hard to see in the man who'd sat opposite me at that whorehouse and gaped in sheer terror at a half-naked blonde named Chastity (oh, the irony) when I'd tried to introduce him to one of the finer perks of being human. But then when he grappled with demons and burned them out of their meat suits with a simple touch of his hand, or beat the living crap out of me in an alleyway when I'd had a moment of weakness and tried to say yes to Michael, it struck me like I was seeing the impossibly powerful angel for the very first time all over again. It scared, awed, and aroused me. And not necessarily in that order.

But this time, the fear is far more overwhelming than it's ever been. Whoever this is, standing there wearing my closest friend's face and body, talking with his voice and sharing his name, he isn't my angel. He isn't Cas.

"You doubted me. Fought against me. But I was right all along." The impostor murmurs, his usually deep voice ominously soft as he turns to face Bobby and me. His eyes pin me in place, oh so blue and intense.

_Warning bells ringing now, Dean-o_.

"Ok, Cas, you were. We're sorry. Let's just defuse you, ok?"

He blinks at me, his lips fixed in the beginnings of a cold humourless smirk and his head tilted minutely to one side in almost a mockery of his old self. I've never seen such a hard soulless expression on the angel's face before. It's so out of place, so wrong. It physically hurts me to look at him like this.

"What do you mean?"

I mean how fucking deep you've stabbed that knife into my back, Castiel, that's what I mean! Stabbed and freaking _twisted_ it. I'd been so unwilling to believe he'd betrayed us, completely ignoring that little voice in the back of my mind that told me otherwise, urging me to wake up and face facts. Bobby and Sammy could see it, so why couldn't I? Oh believe me, I knew _exactly_ why. And then that single Goddamn Superman reference had given him away, and realisation hadn't just hit me, oh no. It'd torn straight through my chest like a pack of Hellhounds, shredding me to the very core and then some.

And the worst part of it? The way he'd smiled back at me, totally unsuspecting and oblivious to the fact that he'd just let the cat out of the bag. That and the way he could barely meet my eyes when we trapped him in that ring of holy fire and demanded answers. We had so much faith in him, so much trust, and he threw it all back in our faces. He threw it back in my face.

"You're full of nuke. It's not safe, so before the eclipse ends, let's get them souls back to where they belong."

That smirk again, his eyebrows raised slightly as he surveys me with almost amused superiority. Shivers trail the whole length of my spine, those warning bells ringing louder and louder inside my head.

"Oh no, they belong with me." Cas says, as though it's obvious they couldn't possibly belong anywhere else. This situation is getting more dire by the second.

"No, Cas, it's scrambling your brain…" I start, but he calmly cuts across me before I can beg him to see reason, and out of my rapidly increasing fear that he's so far past the point of no return right now, I let him.

"Oh, I'm not finished yet." He smiles coldly at me, "Raphael had many followers, and I must… punish them all severely."

_Punish them severely_, ie: splatter them all over the walls and floor in a hundred bloody meaty chunks with nothing but a single click of his fingers. Is that going to happen to everyone who opposes him? Anyone who doesn't follow him? Because if so, that means all I've got to look forward to is congealing in a gooey red mess on various surfaces in this room, no doubt being one of the top people on his hit list. I've been against him on this from the start, and no matter how many Purgatory souls he's crammed down his throat or how many times he's sworn blind that he's done this all for me, my views won't ever change. If he's smart, he'll kill me right here and now.

It'd be in his own best interests after all this.

Against my better judgement, I take another couple of steps forward, my hand unconsciously clenching a little harder against my bruised chest where Crowley did a number on me less than ten minutes ago. Cas watches me approach him with another slight head tilt. It feels like all he's doing is indulging me, just letting me plead with him for the sheer vindictive pleasure he's getting out of it, but I'll be damned if I let that stop me.

"Listen to me." I say, pausing to swallow harshly and wet my lips with the tip of my tongue before continuing, "Listen. I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I'd have died for you… Almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you… _Please_. I've lost Lisa, I've lost Ben, and now I've lost Sam. Don't make me lose you too."

This is literally an inch away from me spilling my soul to him, and I can't afford to let that happen. Not now, not ever.

I was going to tell him everything, y'know, before this. I'd planned it all out, waiting until Raphael was gone and the battle upstairs was finally over, and then when Cas came back down to us, I was going to man up and actually admit to his face how I felt about him. After God knows how much crap we've been through, I figured I owed him that much, and then it was up to him if he felt the same or not. It seems so pathetic now, but I wanted him to know. Lisa and Ben were the most perfect family I could've ever wished for, and although I loved them both, they were nothing but a cover to hide the fact that I'd fallen head over heels for the angel of Thursday. And now… Now I wish I'd never laid eyes on the backstabbing son of a bitch.

"You don't need this kind of juice anymore, Cas! Get rid of it before it kills us all!"

Cas averts his gaze for a second and I feel a tiny glimmer of hope, thinking _maybe_ something managed to seep through all those unnecessary souls and reach the real Castiel I know is buried in there somewhere.

And then his eyes return to mine, and that hope shatters like glass.

"You're just saying that because I won." He decides, so quick to assume the worst in me, "Because you're afraid."

He moves at last, walking unhurriedly towards me, completely unfazed by my frown of confusion and disbelief that he would even think I could sink so low as to grovel and lie to him just to save my own skin.

"You're not my family, Dean." Cas says, stopping less than a metre in front of me, "I have no family."

There's barely a split-second for those chilling words to sink in before I catch a flicker of movement behind Cas and his back suddenly arches as Sam, honest to God, _Sammy_, one hundred percent _alive_, stabs Raphael's abandoned archangel blade straight into Castiel's spine. I jerk in shock, both at seeing my brother and his knifing of the angel who was once our friend, but then that shock abruptly spikes, turning my blood ice cold in my veins. Because Cas's expression hasn't changed. Not even a flicker of an eyelid as Sam lets go and staggers back from him, leaving the handle sticking out from between his shoulderblades.

Any other time, I would've been overwhelmed with relief and happiness that my brother had turned up relatively unharmed in time to save our asses, especially after God knows what crap he's had to fight through inside his own head to get here, but not now. Because right now, there's a freaking huge elephant in the room that's beyond impossible to ignore: The fact that Castiel's still standing there.

He should be screaming in agony as he burns inside his vessel, bright light searing out of his eyes and mouth and filling the room until he drops to the floor, the shadowed outline of his huge black wings splayed across the tiles beneath him. He definitely _should not_ reach behind himself with one hand and yank the blade out, bringing it up to glance at it indifferently before laying it down on the metal table beside him.

"I'm glad you made it, Sam." Cas says, turning around to look at my brother who looks every bit as shocked as we all feel, "But the angel blade won't work. Because I'm not an angel any more."

Sam flicks his gaze to me, frowning like he's asking what the hell happened to Castiel while he was out for the count, but I'm as clueless as he is. This is news to all of us.

Cas turns back to face me and Bobby, but he doesn't even acknowledge the older man, those piercing blue orbs just fixed solely on mine and mine alone. I'm used to being stared at by Castiel, but this is a Hell of a lot more unnerving. Before, he'd stare almost through me, like he could see everything inside me and read my entire soul like an open book, but this… this feels as though he's trying to force himself inside my head, trying to claw and corrupt every inch of my soul with his stare alone.

"I'm your new God. A better one." He tells me. My sharp intake of breath is the only reaction I give, because trust me, any words for this kind of crap have long since fucked off.

"So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you."

He's so far gone he believes every insane word that's coming out of his mouth, and nothing we could say or do will make any difference. The stunned silence in the room is deafening, with me, Sam and Bobby staring wide-eyed at the ex-angel and now self-proclaimed God of mankind like we're waiting for the punchline to this unbelievably sick joke. It doesn't come.

"You can't…" I croak, breaking the silence. My voice practically scratches the inside of my throat raw, "You can't be serious, Cas."

But he is, oh God, he really is. There's no doubt or confusion in his eyes, only sheer determination and conceit. He _believes_ it completely; that he's right and untouchable, and that there'll be no Higher Power repercussions for this type of sacrilege. It's impossible to accept just how far he's fallen.

Castiel doesn't answer me. He doesn't need to. That damned smirk says it all for him.

"Cas, please, don't do this. It's wrong and you know it." Sam practically begs, momentarily diverting the angel-turned-God's attention from me. He looks like he's about to take a step forwards but then sways uncertainly on the spot instead when Castiel's cool gaze makes him think better of it. The shorter man regards him thoughtfully, taking a second or two to consider my brother's words before he shakes his head slightly with a soft dangerous chuckle that's every bit as unfeeling and hard as the expression on his face.

"Perhaps. But it's far too late to go back now. We all know that." Cas responds calmly, slowly twisting his head back around to look at me almost slyly out of the corner of his narrowed eyes, "Now kneel and swear your love and loyalty to me alone, and I will be merciful. You have my word, your lives will be spared."

"You might as well go right ahead and kill us, you son of a bitch." I growl suddenly, surprising myself. Every previous drop of fear in my body is rapidly twisting and morphing into raw burning fury, anger and adrenaline flooding my system as I meet Castiel's stare with a vicious glare of my own. The tiniest flicker of astonishment widens those bright blue eyes for a second before it's gone nearly as fast as it appears, but I don't miss it.

I know I'd spoken for all three of us when I said that, because I know for a fact that we'd all sooner shag a Hellhound than freely get down on our knees and worship this high and mighty dick who used to be practically blood to us. If he wants me to kneel before him, he'll have to cut me down himself, because that's the only way he'd get me there. No doubt Sammy and Bobby would be the same. And Cas should know that, if he ever knew us at all.

"You're wasting your time with us on this, Cas. No way are we ever gonna willing bow down to you after all this. Personally, I'd take death any day."

Do I have a death wish? Yeah, I think I do. Antagonising Gods never goes down well, as I've learnt from past experiences, and antagonising Cas is also a painful mistake to make, again learnt from past experiences, so combining the two is nothing short of suicide. Maybe even eternal damnation. But right now, I really couldn't care less. Part of me wishes Cas would just get on with it and smite me already, because there's no sense in him drawing this out any longer now he's got my answer.

He isn't smirking anymore, which is a really bad sign. In fact, he looks angry now, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed hard together, white and thin. Those eyes blaze like blue flames, meeting my glare head-on with thinly-veiled contempt. Then, slowly, deliberately, he stretches his arms out from his sides, palms facing the floor and his fingers splayed, ridiculously steady despite his fury.

Dread twists my insides tight, every muscle in my body instinctively clenching taut, ready for anything he could throw my way that I might be quick enough to dodge (if I'm lucky). I don't know what I'm expecting, but if he goes to click those fingers together, I'm so very very screwed.

His gaze fixed unwaveringly on mine, he slowly lowers his hands.

"Dean!" I hear Bobby groan through gritted teeth behind me and I jerk my head around in time to see the older man struggling against some kind of invisible force pressing down on him, holding out determinedly for a few painful seconds before his legs give out beneath him and he's driven to his knees. Another dull thud of kneecap against tile echoes from behind Castiel, and sure enough my brother's in a similar position, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead as he fights as hard as he can against whatever mojo Cas is using to pin him down. For some reason, I've been left standing. Yeah, I seriously doubt I'll be staying like that for long.

Cas's hands are back by his sides now but Sam and Bobby are still kneeling against their will, both grunting and writhing, straining desperately to get free. To be honest, all four of us know they haven't got a chance in Hell, because if Castiel can literally tear apart an archangel without touching him, then there's no way on earth that two humans will be able to stand up again until their new God damn well lets them.

Impulsively, (or rather, _stupidly_), I make to dart forwards, either to grab the ex-angel or help Sammy or something, I don't even _know_ what, and unsurprisingly, I don't get far. Suddenly, Cas is in my face, no more than five inches between the tips of our noses, effectively blocking my path with his body and the sharp length of the archangel blade digging uncomfortably deep into the soft flesh of my throat.

"You shouldn't be so quick to wish for death, Dean." Castiel murmurs lowly as I flinch at the abruptness of his attack and then freeze in place, not wanting to give him any more reason to press the tip of that blade any harder against my jugular vein. I swallow out of reflex, the metal riding against my Adam's apple. Those intense blue orbs follow the movement almost greedily before they flicker back up to my face, his warm breath ghosting against my lips, each inhale and exhale slow and even.

Castiel is so close, like with his previous lack of personal boundaries only doubled, and his entire body is radiating such an unnatural amount of heat, his warmth seeping through my jacket and shirt even though we're not physically pressed chest to chest. It must be all those souls inside him, all their rage and hate and sheer scorching _fire_ from Hell, shooting his body temperature through the roof. Can he feel it? Inside, I mean? Standing a few inches from him is like standing in front of an open furnace, so I can only imagine what it feels like to be in the dead centre of it all.

Castiel's pupils dilate slightly as I stare back at him with admittedly no small amount of fear, and before I can say or do anything that would either convince him to release me or just to go right ahead and sever my head from my shoulders, he moves purposefully, propelling me back towards the nearest wall.

"_Dean!_" Sam roars, my name echoing around the room a thousand times over as my back slams against solid brickwork, followed swiftly by the back of my skull. My vision completely whites-out and I feel literally nothing in the few sluggish seconds of total sensory deprivation that follow, not even Castiel's overwhelming heat or his knife still poised at my neck. Dazedly, I blink back to reality, two hazy blue eyes in front of me sharpening as Cas's face comes back into focus.

I glance past him automatically to reassure my brother that I'm still in one piece, and that's when I notice our surroundings. That's when I realise exactly what the ex-angel has just done.

He's pressing me against a wall alright, but not the white brick surface it should've been. Instead, my back is flat against the peeling faded wallpaper of what is obviously a motel room; probably one Sammy and me have stayed in before on one of our hunts. Cas might not be an angel anymore, but obviously being God hasn't stopped him from zapping himself from place to place whenever he feels like it. He's left Bobby and Sam in that room and brought the two of us here… but _why?_ Does he want to kill me in private, or something? Because if that's the case, then he could've chosen somewhere a bit more, I don't know, _classy_ than some nameless motel room in the ass-end of nowhere to dump my corpse. I'll admit I'm a little insulted.

"What the Hell?" I exclaim, because really, what else is there to say about this kind of situation?

Castiel doesn't even try to explain himself, instead turning his head away from me and staring absently over at the window, which of course makes me look over too just to see what's so interesting about it. Its raining heavily outside, water hammering against the windowpane so hard that the glass rattles in its frame. I think the weather pretty much reflects the mood in this room right now, to be honest.

"Cas." I say his name softly, regaining his attention. His eyes return to mine questioningly, blinking steadily. For some reason, he looks more like the old Castiel now than he did a few minutes ago, those unfathomable blue orbs and his overall demeanour moderately less cold. I have to look away. It hurts so much more, the reminder of the angel I once knew and loved resurfacing in this corrupted and deluded self-proclaimed God standing here in front of me. "Are you gonna kill me, Cas?"

There's a moment of silence as he seems to think about it, and I can see his contemplative head tilt out of the corner of my eye even as I keep my gaze resolutely on the wall to my right.

"No."

That definitely wasn't the response I was expecting, but sure enough he eases up on the pressure of the archangel blade at my throat and I only just manage to bite back a sigh of pure relief as the sharp bite of metal turns into a barely-there tickle against my skin. He lets his hand drop almost lifelessly, the flat of the blade sliding smoothly down the column of my neck, over my collarbone and down my chest until his arm is back by his own side, the weapon held loosely between his fingers.

"No?" I repeat his answer as a question, genuinely curious as I face him again with a frown.

"Every soul inside me _screams_ for your death, Dean, they _demand_ it. They want me to tear your heart out with my bare hands because you're such a danger to them, to _us_." Castiel says, and I flinch at the deadly seriousness in his eyes and voice. Millions upon millions of Purgatory souls all baying for my blood? Just when I think things can't possibly get any worse. Ain't that just the story of my life?

The ex-angel's knife-free hand is suddenly pressed flat against my chest, directly over my heart, and I'm sure he feels that exact moment when my pulse spikes in response to the sheer sweltering heat of his touch and the fact that those souls are now literally a hair's breadth away from forcing Castiel's hand straight through my ribcage. The expression on his face is one of utter confusion, as though even he hasn't got a clue what's going on inside his head right now.

"But I won't kill you, because I do not _want_ to. Despite everything I've done, I still think of myself as your guardian, your friend, and from the moment I raised you from Hell, our souls were bound together for all eternity. I couldn't bring myself to end your life even if my own depended on it."

I mentally reel at this confession that is totally out of the blue, and even Castiel looks surprised at himself for revealing so much to me. It's comforting to know that there is actually some semblance of Cas in there, some part that's keeping control and making his choices fully his own regardless of the countless evil souls hissing their venomous influence into his ears.

Cas's palm on my chest starts to inch slowly upwards, fingertips brushing against the edges of my open jacket. A pleasant shiver trails the entire length of my spinal cord, because at the end of the day, my attraction to him isn't something I can turn on or off whenever I want. He could be filled to the brim with hordes of demons without a single scrap of my angel left inside, and my traitorous body would still react instantly to his touch.

"I know what I'm doing, Dean." He murmurs as his inhumanly warm fingers trace over my left collarbone and skim along the tendons of that side of my neck. "I need you to trust me."

"And why the Hell should I?"

Castiel chuckles softly under his breath. His gaze is fixed almost unblinkingly on his own hand now, watching its progress up to my face rather than looking me in the eye. The pad of his thumb presses down gently against the flesh where my throat meets the bony edge of my jaw before swiping along my jawline to my chin. I don't even try to pull away from him, partly because I'm scared of how he'll react, but mostly because I honest to God don't want to move out of his reach. It's twisted, I know, and pathetic beyond all reason, but I can't help myself. It's… It's Cas. I can't explain it. It's just _Cas_.

"A little faith every once in a while won't kill you. In fact, it might just save your life." Castiel says, his lips quirking briefly upwards in a small smirk that isn't far off the ones from earlier. His eyes flicker back up to meet my own, wry amusement shining in those infinite blue depths for a second before the coldness seeps straight back in. The tip of his index fingernail touches my bottom lip, creating an odd tingling pressure from the contact and I shiver yet again, unconsciously pressing myself back a little harder against the wall.

"I'll take my chances without it, thanks." I snap back with one of my infamous shit-eating sarcastic grins, knowing it would get under the ex-angel's skin like nothing else. Sure enough, raw unadulterated rage surges through those narrowed eyes like lightning and he tears his hand back from my face to instead slam both palms into the wall either side of my head, this time actually pinning my body in place with his own lithe form. The brickwork shudders beneath me in protest against the sheer strength of this deceptively slender man and the archangel blade clatters to the floor, missing my foot by inches.

For a second, I actually think he's going to kill me. Even though he's already said he won't, that expression on his face makes me think that he'd like nothing better than to rip my head straight off my shoulders. He looks like he's seriously considering it. But then his face changes as he tilts his head in deliberation, changing that murderous expression into what almost looks like curiosity, his full dry lips slightly parted.

Castiel leans slowly forwards, his bright blue eyes fixed purposefully on my own green orbs as he closes the gap between us and brushes his mouth oh so gently against mine. To say I'm surprised would be the _mother_ of all understatements. My entire body freezes rigid just like when he'd jabbed that angel blade against my neck, but for some reason my lips move on autopilot, pressing back against the ex-angel's unexpectedly soft mouth every bit as chastely before I realise with a sickening jolt exactly what I'm doing.

The shorter man pulls back almost immediately, those damned eyes roving over my face searchingly, but what he's looking for I have no idea. He obviously finds whatever it is because that conceited smile of his stretches a little wider in triumph, and my stomach instinctively plummets down to somewhere around my ankles. I know for a fact that I'm not going to like this. It's just some more rope to hang me with at this point.

"Oh, Dean…" Cas murmurs, his voice like gravel. Behind the cold smirking exterior, there's the smallest flicker of something akin to remorse in those twin blue depths. "If I'd have known, I would've done this so much sooner. I wouldn't have asked for something that's already completely mine."

* * *

**Y'know, this was supposed to be a oneshot, but the wordcount just got higher and higher (and is still getting higher, since I haven't fully finished it yet), so I decided I'd split it into two parts, to save you guys from reading the whole thing for hours on end XD And this seemed like the best place to half it.**

**So, what d'you think? Like it so far? I think a part of me refused to believe that Castiel is well and truly overrun by the Purgatory souls, so that's probably why I've written him a bit less... demonic? Evil? Corrupted? And hence, less rapey :) I hope it's working. **

**The aforementioned angry-angsty smex ensues in the next part, so keep and eye out for that! ^^**

**I'd appreciate a pretty little review, if you can spare the time? Thankies, and see ya next time!**


	2. Part 2

**Aaaand here's part 2 :D I'm kinda glad I split it up actually, since nearly 12000 words is a bit much to read in one go ^^**

**After this, I'm getting back into my Sherlock fics, but no doubt I'll put some more Supernatural Dean/Castiel fics up here in the future, maybe even a proper multi-chaptered story. I've got some ideas, but they're momentarily on hold :)**

**Warnings? Ok, man on man sex ensues. Oh, and a tiny bit of blood/gore type stuff, but only a smidgen. And a whole heap of angst. Seriously, even I didn't know this would turn out as angsty as it did :S**

**Disclaimer? I own nothing at all. :(**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed and faved or alerted the previous chapter! :D**

**Read on and review please?**

**Enjoy!**

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"If you'd known what, you sanctimonious asshole? You don't have shit from me, Castiel, not now, not ever." I snarl in his face, my anger soaring to new levels despite the fact that my lips are still tingling and my heart is racing from nothing more than the tiniest brush of his lips against mine. One year ago, Hell, even a couple of months ago, that kiss would've been one of the happiest moments of my entire life, but now it just feels as though he's taken that knife out of my back and stabbed it straight through my heart instead. It's like he's betrayed me all over again.

I can't even remember the last time I called him Castiel, either. I don't think I ever have, but he doesn't deserve to be called Cas anymore. He doesn't even deserve a fucking _name_ anymore.

He inclines his head to one side, the smile that stretches his mouth slowly smoothing away into a thin-lipped expression of total seriousness.

"When will you stop lying to yourself, Dean?" Cas asks, his brow creasing into a frown. His right hand slips from the wall down onto my shoulder, thumbing against the sensitive skin in the juncture between my neck and collarbone. I twitch and shudder unintentionally at the feeling and the new God's smile swiftly returns in the form of a full vicious wide white grin, his smugness so heavy in the air that I can practically _taste_ it.

"You want this. You want _me_. You always have and you always will."

And just like that, I snap. Just with those few self-satisfied words that leave his pretty mouth and jab through my chest like actual knives, so much hatred and shame and pure consuming _rage_ surfacing in a hot bloody rush at exactly how impossibly deep the truth cuts. It hurts too damned much, and I can't take it anymore.

I launch myself forwards with every single remaining scrap of strength I have left in my body, momentarily catching Castiel off guard and forcing him to stagger back a few steps as I propel us away from the wall. No doubt he would've immediately regained his balance and slammed me straight back there again, but before he could even consider it, my hand seizes hold of his trench coat lapels whilst the other grips the back of his neck, dragging him bodily closer to me and capturing his lips in a brutal bruising kiss.

Actually, no. It could never be described as a 'kiss'. It's more like a fight, a painful clash of mouths and will as Cas responds with equal violence, both his hands finding my face and clenching it in a vice-like grip to keep me from pulling away even though I obviously have no intention of removing myself from him. I'm pouring everything into this, my heart and soul, all my fury, fear, humiliation, sorrow and love, and I know he can feel it.

I don't even realise one of his hands has left my jaw until it grabs a fistful of my light brown hair and pulls hard, yanking my head back from his at an uncomfortable angle so he can meet my gaze with eyes that are little more than a sliver of blue iris around dilated inky black pupils.

"Swear your love to me, Dean Winchester." He commands, his voice gruff and resonating as we both pant harshly against each other, our chests rising and falling rapidly and our breath mingling together between us. "I want to hear you say it."

"Screw you, Cas." I growl back without a second thought. Those ice cold eyes narrow into catlike slits and he's back on me in an instant, his bruised mouth hard and ruthless against mine as he presses the fingers of his other hand so forcefully into my jaw that I hiss with pain and he greedily smothers the sound with his tongue before it can even attempt to leave my throat. I claw at his beige trench coat like a man possessed, a loud ripping sound going completely unnoticed by us both as we practically fuck each other's mouths with our tongues, neither one of us willing to give the other so much as an inch to take advantage of.

Castiel releases my face and mouth long enough to seize hold of my jacket and all but tears it from my body, nearly dislocating my arms from their sockets with the sheer force of it. I don't care though, because at the same time I'm yanking the trench coat roughly down from his shoulders, letting it drop into a careless pile behind him, followed swiftly by his black suit jacket. It's a ferocious mess of demanding hands and tearing fabric, and the unbelievable heat of his body is almost impossible to bear at such close proximity, but that doesn't stop me gripping him to me hard enough to have broken a couple of his ribs if he were human. I press the entire length of my body against him, our lips collide again, and together we _burn_.

Twisting his thin blue tie tight around one fist, I drag him along with me as he backs us towards the nearest double bed. He catches my bottom lip between his teeth and tugs hard, making me groan throatily at the sharp burst of pain and in retaliation I grab hold of his thin hips, grinding my lower half mercilessly against his. We both groan at that, but it's far from pained. As the backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed, Cas's fingers scrabble at the hem of my t-shirt and I bat his hands away, leaning back from him slightly to drag the material up and over my head before tossing it away to the side, baring my torso to the new God of all mankind.

Castiel's penetrating eyes roam over me appraisingly but I don't give him chance to admire the view, instead flattening my chest against his once again and deftly unfastening the knot of his tie, sliding it free from his shirt collar so it can join the other clothes already on the floor. His hands clamp down hard on my back, fingertips digging deep into my flesh as he lurches forwards and easily finds my throat, immediately sucking a patch of skin harshly into his open mouth.

"_God, Cas_…" The moan leaves my traitorous lips before I can bite it back and I feel his triumphant smile against the vivid lovebite he's left on my neck. My hands start to unbutton his crisp white shirt, revealing more and more stunning pale skin, but he quickly grows impatient and shoves me back just as I get to the last button, sending me sprawling gracelessly across the mattress in front of him.

This is nowhere near how I imagined it would be. But then again, this isn't Castiel, not really, and I'm not exactly in a stable state of mind myself right now either. I want to hurt him for everything he's making me feel for him, I want to claw and bite at his soft skin until he _bleeds_ and I want him to do the same to me, just to give me something to focus on other than how wrong and messed up we both are.

"Dean…" Castiel all but freaking _purrs_ my name, staring down at me from where he stands at the foot of the bed. When I fell back, my arm reflexively swung out and snagged on his shirt, so now the material is practically hanging off him at one side, half his chest completely revealed for the whole world to see. He blinks steadily, his mouth quirking up into a crooked expectant smile as he moves between my spread legs that are hanging over the end of the bed. I prop myself up onto my elbows and glare challengingly straight back at him.

The silent stare-off passes ridiculously fast and I sit up just as swiftly, reaching out to wrap my fingers around his beautiful protruding hipbones and hold him closer to me as I dip my head and lick a slow teasing stripe along his naked abdomen.

Cas growls, the sound echoing low in his throat, and I feel rather than see his body arch towards me as I trace my tongue, lips and teeth over the faint white scars of that Enochian sigil he'd once carved into his own chest. He shrugs the rest of his shirt from his shoulders and then reaches down to me, twining one hand into my hair whilst the other curls possessively around the back of my neck, both gripping the slightest bit tighter when I nip at his left hipbone particularly viciously. My eyes flicker up to meet his as I suck lovebite after brutal lovebite into his hot flesh, watching his head tilt backwards, eyelids fluttering and breathing heavily through parted kiss-swollen lips.

I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be doing this. I should be fully-clothed and furious, demanding Castiel zap my ass straight back to Sam and Bobby, or even throwing a few punches at the ex-angel (which would've done next to nothing to him, but would've made me feel a Hell of a lot better). For fuck sake, I should be trying to kill the self-proclaimed God with my bare hands, but instead I'm using them to deftly unfasten his belt and unzip his trousers as I mouth my way down his toned stomach, leaving a trail of dark purple marks in my wake.

His half-lidded blue eyes burn nearly as hot as his skin as he watches me, soft groans and sighs leaving his lips whilst his fingers slide through my hair, sending shivers straight down the length of my spine. I glance up at him one more time before leaning lower and pressing my mouth to the part of him I've just uncovered, nuzzling forcefully against the hard bulge barely contained beneath a layer of plain white material.

Castiel's strangled moan of shock echoes around the room as his whole form jerks in pleasure, and I raise my eyebrow and smirk against him, my cockiness literally paper-thin. One of my most effective defence mechanisms, that. Beneath this feigned overconfident exterior, I'm a pure freaking mess, far more fucked up than I ever was down in Hell under Alistair's thumb. Cas already has me beaten in every sense of the word, but I'll be damned if I go down and submit to him without a fight.

He composes himself inhumanly fast, pushing me away from him with a growl. I barely have time to register that he's shoving his trousers and underwear down his legs and stepping uncaringly out of them before his palms collide with my chest and he slams me flat down onto the mattress, pinning me in place with the entire length of his naked body. Everywhere his skin touches mine sears unbelievably hot, like pressing bare flesh against white-hot metal, and if I somehow manage to survive this encounter without third degree burns, it'll be a Goddamn miracle.

Cas's head dips down to mine, and I meet him more than halfway as he catches my lips in yet another passionate ferocious kiss, our tongues sliding against one another, battling for control. Heated fingertips skim over my pectorals and abdomen, and I automatically spread my legs wider to accommodate his lithe form as he practically attacks the waistband of my jeans. Seconds later, one hand slips inside and grips me tight, and I arch up off the bed against him, tearing my mouth from his with a loud groan of his name that I only just manage to smother by biting down hard enough on my clenched fist to draw blood.

Suddenly, the fingers of Cas's unoccupied hand wrap around my wrist, gently tugging my hand away from my mouth.

"Don't." He tells me through lips that are slick and swollen. His voice is rougher than before, if that's even possible. "Let me hear you, Dean. I need to hear you."

With a snarl of renewed anger, I wrench my arm from his grasp, fighting against the inhumanly warm weight of his body pressing me into the covers even as I buck and writhe against him thanks to his other hand still relentlessly busy in the front of my pants. Castiel's cold demeanour shifts ever so slightly as he tilts his head, staring down at me with almost confused curiosity, like I'm some kind of puzzle that no matter how hard he examines me or whichever angle he tries to work me at, he can't quite figure out every tiny detail. Flinging my now-free arm behind my head, I seize hold of the bed's wooden headboard in a white-knuckle grip as my spine violently arches off the mattress on a particularly forceful stroke. My head tips back into the pillow, unintentionally baring the length of my throat to him when I moan brokenly, already so damn close to the edge. Castiel wastes no time in clamping his mouth down on my exposed neck again, sucking yet another dark claiming mark into my sweat-slicked skin.

We're both new to this; me to having any kind of sexual contact with another man, and him to having any kind of sexual contact at all. But even so, it's surprising just how _natural_ it feels to be like this with him. The hard planes and angles of his slender body against mine, every sinewy muscle shifting beneath silken skin, the scrape of his stubble against the soft flesh of my throat and collarbone… I can't describe how fucking _euphoric_ this feels. His pure male musky scent mixed with sweat and arousal fills my head and is somehow far more arousing to me than any woman's sickly sweet perfume. Even his clumsy unskilled technique is getting me off faster than even the most experienced lays I've had over the years. But maybe that's because it's Castiel. In fact, yeah, that's a definite. It's just Cas, and all I can do is lay back and spread my legs for him like the worthless whore I am. _God_… I'm a fucking _joke_.

Cas breaks away from my throat and bites his way down my chest, repaying the favour for the trail I left down his torso earlier. My trousers and underwear are gone in an instant, (either torn away from me or zapped away, I'm so caught up in this that I don't even know which), and we're finally pressed entirely together without any barriers. He's impossibly hot and hard against my thigh, moaning lowly into my abdomen as he ruts against me, but he's still kissing and sucking his way down my stomach so the friction is nowhere near high enough to relieve some of the aching pressure between my legs.

"_For fuck sake, Cas!_" I hiss at him through gritted teeth, bucking violently up against him to dislodge his mouth from my torso. Half-lidded blue eyes meet mine as his pink tongue darts out from between his full lips and slides sinfully over my nearest hipbone. I squirm and swear at him again, but then he leans away and sucks two of his slim fingers into his mouth before pulling them back out again with a wet pop and returning his lips to my skin as those damp fingers travel purposefully back down my body.

Without warning, those fingers stab _inside_ me and I cry out and arch up off the bed so far that my spine cracks loudly in protest. Castiel laughs softly into the taut flesh of my lower stomach as he stretches and fucks me open with one hand, and I wonder if this is something else he learned from that damned porno pizza man. Either that or all those Purgatory souls are helping the virgin ex-angel out with an on-the-job gay sex lesson. Either way, he's a freaking attentive student, I'll give him that.

Still probing his fingers deep into my ass, Cas slides himself along my body so our groins finally meet with delicious friction. We both moan at the contact (admittedly, me louder than him, but then again I am the one being simultaneously finger-fucked) and I bury my face in his collarbone as my arms wrap around his slender frame, clinging to his shoulders as I struggle to choose between rolling my hips up against his dick or down onto his hand.

The bastard makes the decision for me and removes his fingers entirely, and God help me, I could've murdered him for that. The words '_fucking tease_' spring to mind and I think I actually snarl them out loud because Cas's lips quirk upwards into a small self-satisfied smirk and he shakes his head fondly, staring down at me. I lay there with my chin tilted defiantly and my eyes blazing, watching him as he brings his hand to his mouth, licks his palm and then drops it between his legs, slicking the hard length of himself with spit. I lick my lips, raising my gaze from his groin to his face.

This is actually happening. I mean, _this is really happening_: I'm going to be screwed by this backstabbing son of a bitch with a God complex who used to be my closest friend. This man, this angel I fell in love with a long time ago who has torn apart every shred of trust I had in him and then still expects me to fall to my knees and worship him. It's actually not even clear who's the most messed up out of the two of us right now. If I had to choose, I'd say me. For obvious reasons.

Cas's mouth is by my ear, his breath panting harshly against my skin as his hot hands spread my thighs further apart, lining himself up between them.

"I love you." He murmurs softly, damning us both. "I love you, Dean Winchester."

And then Castiel thrusts completely inside me without waiting for a response, whatever I'd intended to say leaving my mouth instead as a strangled groan of pain as I throw my head back so forcefully that every tendon in my neck strains taut almost to snapping point, every muscle in my body viciously contracting. It hurts like an absolute _bitch_, because no way was a bit of spit going to get me moist enough for a smooth ride, but it's too late now and at the moment neither of us really care. He's frozen above me, his lithe body entirely rigid except for the harsh rising and falling of his chest as he gasps out every breath, his head bowed and eyes screwed shut, sweat-slicked strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. He looks completely lost in the feeling of being inside me, like he's shuddering on the brink of orgasm and trying desperately to claw himself back from the edge.

My nails are digging so hard into his shoulderblades that I've actually drawn blood; I can feel the dampness oozing around my fingertips. It's almost painfully ironic that I've made him bleed from the places where his huge black angel wings used to sprout from his back, and now they're completely gone, much like the Castiel I used to have full faith in. I can't even feel his grace anymore. I know that sounds weird, but Cas used to have a kind of… I don't know, an _aura_ about him, I suppose. The other angels we've been around had a similar kind of thing. Like Lucifer's felt dark and malevolent (no surprises there), Anna's was soft and yet somehow steely at the same time, and Cas's… Well, Cas's was warm and bright, like the sun shining on your skin on a hot summer's day. I can't feel that now. All I feel is the intense unnatural burning heat of his flesh and a suffocating hollowness of something I can't even explain. Even his blood is boiling hot under my fingernails.

Staying still beneath him when he's balls-deep in my ass is beyond torture. I'm too full, too hot, too desperate. I don't care if he's trying to gather himself; he needs to move, right _now_.

"_Move!_" I demand, bucking my hips up and swearing gutturally when my movement forces him that oh so tiny bit deeper. Dilated blue eyes snap wide open, completely freaking _wild_, and he seizes hold of my hips in a bruising grip as he obeys, pulling out and snapping straight back in with so much force that I think I can feel his dick in my _throat_, for fuck sake, but _oh God, yes, do that again!_

He finds a rhythm surprisingly quickly and I meet him thrust for brutal thrust, writhing and arching against his body like the seasoned whore I am, my hands sliding down his spine to clamp down on his ass in an effort to force him harder, deeper, faster into me. We're both moaning as he fucks me into the motel mattress with no restraint whatsoever, crashing into me with everything he has and then some. Our mouths collide just as violently as our bodies, swallowing each other's groans of mounting pleasure in a war of tongues and teeth that leaves us gasping even harder for air against the opposing mouth.

Yanking my hips up higher, Castiel slams himself in at an even sharper angle and hits something inside me that sets every single nerve ending alight all at once, zapping directly up my spine like lightning and filling my head with fireworks. I nearly choke on my own tongue (Hell, it might've even been _his_ tongue) and my body jerks out of rhythm for a split-second, my thighs clenching like a vice around his narrow hips and my fingernails stabbing crescent-shaped dents into the soft flesh of his ass. _Prostate jackpot_.

Cas smirks against my mouth. Needless to say, every vicious thrust after that is aimed straight at that spot, and every single one is a direct hit.

I've lost all sense of time and reason, every thought running through my mind a jumbled pleasure-hazed mess. All I can see, taste, smell and feel is Castiel, and anything other than him is completely disregarded. Lisa and Ben. Bobby and Sam. None of them matter right now, because it's just me and Cas together, unravelling in each other's grip as we race for that all important finish line. We're so close, _so damn close_…

"Cas, I – " I pant desperately, but before those crucial words can leave my lips, Castiel's palm clamps down on my left bicep, right over the original handprint burn he'd left in my flesh. The touch sears hotter than Hellfire, but it's the final agonising push I need and I'm forced straight over the edge into complete rapturous ecstasy, shouting my climax to the Heavens. I hope all the angels up there can hear me, because I want each and every one of them to know exactly what their brother-turned- overlord has done to me.

Cas groans my name like a broken man, his spine arching at an almost impossible angle as he shudders his own release inside me, his hand still wrapped around my arm as though it's the only thing anchoring him to reality. He stays like that for the longest moment and then drops, his trembling arms refusing to hold him up any longer and he collapses on top of me, breathing heavily against my throat as he softens inside me. One of my arms is draped across his shoulders, my other splayed out on the sullied sheets with my fingers dangling over the edge of the bed. Our legs are tangled together and his hair tickles my face as we inhale and exhale hard, and I can feel his heartbeat pounding so fast in almost perfect time with mine.

The only sounds in the room are our ragged breathing and the rain still thrashing against the motel window, but other than that, the silence between us is truly deafening. There's nothing to say, really. What we've done, we can't take it back, and we both know it changes nothing. He's still the new God, and I'm still the mess that is Dean Winchester, and not even sex or love confessions could erase everything that's happened over the last few months, no matter how much we want it to.

Castiel raises his head and looks at me, his eyes solemn and oh so blue. I blink steadily back at him, taking in every inch of his face and committing it entirely to memory. This might be our only time together like this, and I'd rather remember him as a friend, brother and lover instead of just another big bad monster that I have to kill for the benefit of humanity. I wonder if he's staring at me now for exactly the same reason.

Unexpectedly, Castiel averts his eyes first and glances over at his hand on my arm with an unreadable expression, and I follow his gaze. My bicep feels strangely numb and a weird stickiness seems to be spreading down my arm, and I see why when Cas removes his hand and it comes away dark red and dripping, his inhumanly white-hot grip having scorched clean through my flesh and into the muscle beneath. Blood is oozing in slick trails towards the crease of my elbow and staining my skin crimson, but I do little more than stare at the mess impassively for a few seconds and then look away again. I don't give two shits about it.

Without a word, Cas pulls away, slipping easily out of me and moving off the bed completely, leaving me spread eagled on the mattress looking every bit as used and abused as a cheap prostitute and understanding for the first time in my life exactly how it feels to be someone's lay. I chuckle dryly to myself as his heat vanishes and is replaced with nothing but cold air, and I roll over onto my side with my back to him and relax into the pillow, absently tracing my fingers around one of the many vivid lovebites marking my chest. He's obviously getting dressed behind me and it makes me smile humourlessly.

"Where the Hell do you think you're going?" I comment wryly without turning to face him, listening to the brief silence that interrupts the rustling of clothing against skin. I know he's looking at me; I can feel his gaze piercing into my bare back. "Never would've guessed you'd be a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy, Cas."

Then again, I never would've guessed he'd be a backstabbing God-sized dickhead either, but hey, I've been wrong before.

The mattress dips suddenly and his hand slides under my chin, gently turning my head until I find myself staring through narrowed eyes up at the fully clothed ex-angel who's leaning over me on the bed, his face hovering a handful of inches above mine with an expression torn somewhere between remorse and sincerity. He looks so much like the old Cas right now, and I think that's what makes me reach up and stroke my palm against his cheek, tracing my fingers along the length of his stubbly jawline. He nuzzles into my hand, pressing a soft kiss against the pad of my thumb as it brushes over his lips.

"I don't want to leave you, but I have to." Castiel murmurs with obvious regret, "Sam and Bobby are on their way, and I think it's best if I'm not around when they get here. And besides, I have work to do. We will see each other again soon, Dean. I promise."

I'm curious as to how Sam and Bobby even know where we are, but it doesn't matter. Maybe Cas told them somehow, I don't know and I really couldn't care less, so instead of questioning him, I tilt my head upwards and press our mouths together for the final time tonight. This kiss is so completely different from before, no force or lust behind it, just the gentle movement of lips against lips that somehow manages to convey everything we're feeling. It's a slow and chaste goodbye kiss, and I never want it to end.

Eventually though, it does, and we separate unwillingly.

"I'm going to hunt you down for this, Cas. I'll do whatever it takes to stop you." I tell him, my voice barely louder than a whisper as it ghosts over his skin. It isn't a threat. We both know that's just how it is, and if we thought this would go down any other way, then we were deluding ourselves. I'm a hunter, and he needs to be stopped. End of.

Castiel nods slightly, his blue eyes downcast.

"You shouldn't." He replies equally as softly. Again, it isn't a warning. Just a simple statement of fact that he's already figured out my answer to.

"But I will anyway."

"I know."

Cas makes to get up off the bed and I chase him with another lingering kiss that he accepts with the exact same amount of pleading desperation that I'm pouring into it. We're stalling for time now, neither of us wanting to leave or be left, and I honestly couldn't give a crap if the door flew open right now and Sam and Bobby came in to the rescue all guns blazing. They could catch us like this, take in the entire scene and the bloodied, bruised, sweaty state of me, and that wouldn't faze me at all. I'd still wrap myself around Castiel and hold him tight to me, anyone else and their opinions be damned.

"Dean, I have to go." Cas says, and this time I let him stand and move away, my eyes following him as he walks over to the wall he'd previously pinned me against and stoops to pick up the abandoned archangel blade from the worn carpet, sliding it away out of sight into the folds of his beige trench coat. He turns to face me once more, his arms dropping to his sides as his ice-cold untouchable demeanour slips back into place, his intense blue eyes literally freezing as his gaze goes from regretful to unfeeling in a matter of seconds. He's well and truly back in God-mode, and his gaze on me now makes me feel even more worthless and used than before. It cuts deep, and I have to turn away again, rolling back onto my side to get away from those familiar and yet unbelievably foreign eyes of his.

My thighs are sticky with sweat and come, both mine and his, the latter of which is leaking sluggishly from my ass now there's nothing blocking it's exit anymore. Charming, I know, but I just bend my knees slightly higher up to my body in hope of hiding the sight from Cas. The newer deeper handprint on my arm stings as I run my fingers over it experimentally and I wince, my fingertips being quickly submerged in red liquid. That'll take a while to heal fully, and when it does, it'll leave the mother of all scars. As if the ex-angel couldn't stake any more of a claim on me. He's sucked his marks into my throat and chest, pinned me down and fucked me, and now he's resorted to reopening old wounds to remind me exactly who I belong to. If he were a dog, he would've cocked his leg and pissed on me already to mark me as his territory. Freaking _Property of Castiel_, alright.

"I love you." I whisper hoarsely, the words little more than a rumble in my throat. I don't want him to hear it, but at the same time I have to say it now, or I'll never say it at all. And I want him to know before he leaves me here. "I wish I didn't, but I do. _I fucking love you_, you son of a bitch."

There's utter silence in the room, save only for the rain, and I wonder if Cas has already zapped himself away the second I turned my back. It wouldn't surprise me if he had. After all, why should he stick around any longer than he has to? Everything he wanted from me, I gave. If he'd wanted to hear those words, then tough shit to him for disappearing before I could say them, because I won't ever repeat them.

The gentlest touch of a hot hand against my back makes me flinch, and I automatically brace for pain despite how soft the contact is. Surprisingly, pain doesn't come, and instead tender fingers trail soothingly down the length of my spine, leaving a rush of goosebumps in their wake.

Almost as soon as the touch is there, it's gone. The room temperature drops abruptly, and a quick glance over my shoulder confirms that Castiel has vanished without a trace. My left hand clenches tight in the bed covers and I watch blankly as thin lines of blood slide steadily down to my wrist and drip between my fingers.

I… I don't know what to do now.

This is how Bobby and my brother will find me. The first thing they'll see is my naked body sprawled on the bed, sweat drying on my skin and my torso littered with brutal bruise-like marks, the handprint on my arm no doubt looking far more gory than it feels. They'll smell sex in the air, see my bruised kiss-swollen lips and the dark purple imprints of where someone has gripped onto my hips and held on impossibly tight. They'll be shocked, disgusted and furious, and I won't tell them anything; let them make their own conclusions. I know they wouldn't understand if I told them the truth anyway. How could they? It doesn't even make sense to _me_, for fuck sake.

They'll instinctively assume the worst, just like I would through their eyes, and it'll add even more fuel to their fire, especially Sam's. He'll want to hunt Castiel down and tear him limb from limb, and if I were a coward, I'd let him. But I don't think I will.

If there's some way we can save Castiel, then I won't rest until he's our angel again. But if we can't save him and someone has to kill him, it'll be me. Because I know Cas would want me to be the one to do it. I'd owe him at least that small mercy. I owe him a lot more than that, but I think tonight's pretty much cancelled out most of that debt.

I wonder if I'll be able to forgive him. I wonder if I can actually bring myself to kill him if that's what it all comes down to. I wonder if I'm even fucking strong enough to get up off this bed and get washed and dressed before Sam and Bobby get here, and carry on like nothing happened. I'm not gonna lie here; I'm seriously doubting all three of those. That last one most of all.

_Dean Winchester, God's bitch. Everyone knows it, so you might as well accept it, Dean-o._

It's far too cold in here now. I shiver and turn my head slightly on the pillow, blinking steadily as I watch the rain batter ruthlessly against the windowpane. It doesn't look like it's ever going to stop.

Much like Castiel.

But then again, it's only a matter of time.

* * *

**To be fair, I had no idea how to end this, hence the probably ambiguous final sentence there haha XD**

**Can't wait for season 7, just hope they find someway to bring back the Cas we all know and love! They better not kill him off, I'll be so angry ¬¬**

**Anyways, what d'you think? Did you like it?**

**Please review and let me know! Thanks! ^^**


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